


Neither Iron Or Glass, But Steel

by AbsinthexMind



Series: Oh brother where art thou [27]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Aftermath of Torture, Brother/Sister Incest, F/M, Implied/Referenced Torture, Incest, Mutilation, Past Abuse, Revenge, Separations, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-02
Updated: 2019-01-02
Packaged: 2019-10-02 16:01:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17267120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AbsinthexMind/pseuds/AbsinthexMind
Summary: You weren't made of iron, like those of your family. Nor glass like many noble women seemed to consist of. No. Now you were something stronger. Steel like the blade in your hand.





	Neither Iron Or Glass, But Steel

“Quiet little one.” Theon breathes against the shell of your ear as his hand grabs onto the round of your ass to slam himself deeper into you. 

Well, you would have been more quiet if he wasn’t fucking the living daylights out of you. The cold of Winterfell made your nipples hard and easier for Theon to pinch and tease. 

Due to the failure of the Greyjoy Rebellion a couple of years ago, the two of you had been taken as captives by the Starks. They had put it in nicer words but you and Theon knew better. As long as you had your brother with you though you knew everything would be okay. He was there to protect you from the foreignness of the north. Yet you had grown to love Winterfell more than the gloominess of Pyke. You would take the snow over the sea. Theon however dreamed of the Iron Isles. Dreamed of being swathed in the kraken of house Greyjoy. He always said you would be the most beautiful woman on Pyke if you were to return. From the hard faces you remembered from your childhood you didn’t doubt it. 

In the early days of having first arrived in Winterfell, you were understandably scared. Being a Greyjoy you couldn’t show how you really felt so you covered up your fear with silence and cold indifference. Theon was the one to build up your comfort and confidence. Each night he’d steal to your room and keep you company while whispering sweet words to you. Any kind of warm affection was normally frowned upon in your family, but when it concerned you, Theon didn’t care. Never cared. Balon Greyjoy wasn’t there to frown at you, calling your affections weakness. 

Maybe it was there where it all began. Lips strayed away from areas that were considered innocent. Hands roamed in a hungry manner that didn’t belong in a brother-sister relationship. 

Who had given in to desire first? 

When had innocence turned to desire? 

Neither of you could be able to answer that. Neither of you cared. 

Yet you knew others would care. They would condemn you 

“Th-Theon” you begged “s. . . slower!” You were going to break. You were going to scream loud enough for all of the north to hear if your brother didn’t slow down. What made it worse was Theon rubbing your clit. 

You were coming undone. 

Bright dots splashed across your vision as your inner walls clenched and pulsed around his cock. Theon groans as he fucks you until he too reaches his climax in shudders. You feel his cum overflow and trickle out of you, dribbling down your leg. 

Panting and red faced, your knees buckle making you nearly fall face forward into your pillows. Theon catches you, pulling you on top of him as he falls backwards onto the mattress. He holds you tightly to him. Head still swimming you close your eyes and attempt to catch your breath before reminding Theon that he should be leaving. You could practically hear his smirk. “What, now that you’re fucked me you want me to leave? How cruel of you, sweet sister.” 

Smiling back you reply “Yes, I’ve gotten my fill. Your cock is the only use I have for you, brother mine.” 

His touch soft now, Theon tilts your head up so that he can brush a delicate kiss to your lips. All joking aside, Theon whispers. “I love you (y/n).” 

“I love you too Theon.” 

In the quiet of the night, your warm bodies fending off the cold, the two of you share another kiss. It lacked the passion of moments before. Instead no replaced with unwavering love and devotion. 

You wished he could stay in your bed like this. “Theon, you should really get going.” 

Theon’s arms tightened around you, unwilling to let you go. “Just a few more minutes.” 

The protest was on your tongue, but you were exhausted from Theon fucking all sense out of you. You nuzzled against his chest, the warmth of it making your cheeks burn even more, and close your eyes. Just a few more minutes wouldn’t hurt.   
  
  
  


What a fool you had been to assume that. 

The moment you heard the door open and the maids shriek, you knew that you and your brother were screwed. 

You and Theon hardly had time to scramble for clothes when the Lord of Winterfell was summoning you to his chambers. The maid had made quick work of alerting Ned Stark. Fear wasn’t something that the two of you were customed to, but standing there in front of the sour faced northern lord, you felt it creeping down your back. Even Theon was on edge, the slight twitch of his fingers giving away how he felt now that your secret was out in such a way. Ned didn’t need to say anything. You knew what was about to happen before he opened his mouth. 

Separation. 

But who would take in the disgraced daughter of Balon Greyjoy? That was the hardest part. Although Ned did keep quiet about you and Theon, there were those who weren’t so ready to bring up a child of a wannabe usurper. As delegations were being made about where you would be sent (for it had to be you since having the only son left of Balon’s would be most beneficial to the Starks) there were guards posted at your door every night and you were forbidden from even looking at your own brother. Hot headed and arrogant Theon fumed. Robb had tried many times to cool down his tempers, but when you were involved, there was nothing to be done. 

Ned had to make a decision quick or else. . . he feared what would happen if he prolonged the decision. 

Without being near Theon, you crawled back into yourself. You couldn’t let them see how scared you were. How devastated you were to be away from your brother, your lover. Your room had never felt colder. 

The beauty of the north fled, now seeing it as a wasteland that sucked out all warmth. 

Finally after weeks of correspondences, Ned sent you away to some lord. Far away from Theon. 

You didn’t even get to say goodbye. The guards rushed you past Theon’s door as others were trying to keep it closed while your brother raged on from behind the barrier. You trembled underneath your cloak as you willed the tears inside of you to freeze up as well as your heart. 

What would you do without him? How were you to survive without your big brother beside you?   
  
  
  
  


It took years but eventually you learned how to live without him. You would always miss him, but now you didn’t need him to feel strong. To feel confident. You were a grown woman, having been away from the north for years. The lord Ned had sent you to was not a kind one. He abused you. Eventually you thanked him with a knife to the gut. Thanked him for all he had taught you. Thanked him for making you strong and fearless. You took what you could from his estate and fled into the dark. You weren’t scared. Even when you came across a band of thugs and thieves of the like you never flinched. You proved yourself time and time again, earning scars and a reputation. Many called you a beast with a blade; the terror in a skirt. 

You weren’t made of iron, like those of your family. Nor glass like many noble women seemed to consist of. No. Now you were something stronger. Steel like the blade in your hand. 

You were ready now to see your brother. To demand that Lord Ned Stark. 

Fate had different plans though. 

Execution. 

War. 

Betrayal. 

You were still reeling from the news when, drinking away your shock in some tavern halfway into the north. Now Winterfell belonged to the flayed men of Bolton. Where was Theon now? 

“It took a while to find you.” 

By nature your dominant hand moves to the hilt of your sword as you turn around in your barstool. A young woman stood there, dark eyes as well as shortened hair make her appear hard; just like yourself. They gave her the look of a warrior. There’s something about her that you can’t quite place. A familiarity. Something in her face. 

“I had to follow many leads. Whispers and gossip.” She continues, making her way to the seat next to you. With a closer look you see the bright blossom of young bruises on her face. “Just to find you, little sister.” 

Little sister. . . “Excuse me?” Your heart ached, remembering the last person to call you that was Theon. It never bothered him when he emphasized on the fact that you were his sibling. No, it made his feelings stronger for you. 

Unceremoniously she takes your drink, acting like a fish dying from lack of water. She slams the mug down. “It’s been years since we’ve last seen each other. It’s Asha, (y/n).” 

“A. . . Asha?” Last you checked she was still on the Iron Isles. “What in seven hells are you doing here?” 

Asha smiles, a crooked smile so much like Theon’s. “I missed you too.” Then her expression darkens. “(y/n), I searched high and low for you because of Theon.” 

You nearly leapt at the mention of your brother. “Where is he? What’s wrong with him?” 

“He’s become Ramsay Bolton’s prisoner.” Eyes as heavy as a storm drill into the wood of the bar table. “He’s. . . Not the same. I went to try and get him. Try and save him. Gods how it all went wrong. He didn’t want to be saved. Ramsay’s tortured him. I need your help. You’ve always been closer to him. The two of you have gone through a lot together. And if the stories are true, you’ve become quite a warrior. You can reach him. I thought about giving up on him. That he was a lost cause. But then I remembered when he was last on Pyke.” 

The only warmth you had ever seen that belonged to an ironborn was from Theon. But now Asha shares the same tenderness; not exactly the same as Theon’s, but that of a sister’s. 

“He spoke so much about you. How he was going to raise an army and find you.” There was a lingering accusation. A suspicion that you caught onto in the lilt of her voice, but Asha disregarded it as soon as she had said it. Now was not the time for questions. And even if the question in her tone was true, well, she was never one to judge. 

In an instant you were up. “Enough talk. We can have a proper reunion once I get Theon back.”   
  
  
  
  
  
  


The mock in his eyes was very clear. He didn’t try to hide it. Cruel amusement glittered in his eerie pale eyes. Once upon a time, without your brother, you would’ve cowered underneath such a look. Now you were your own woman. A woman skilled at the singing of blades. You cowered in front of no man. 

“Little Kraken.” Ramsay Bolton grins like a cat who got it’s beloved cream. “Your sister sends the Little Kraken to try and take Reek?” 

“Theon.” You corrected him. Standing as tall as you could against the Bolton bastard, you take small steps closer to him. They had let you in with no problem, assuming someone as tiny and harmless as yourself wouldn’t pose much of an issue. All too willingly guards brought you forth to Ramsay. The bastard who killed his father and step-mother in order to gain power in Winterfell, thus in the north. You would’ve found it comical had it not been for the fact that he had been torturing your beloved brother. 

A scoff rakes through Ramsay’s mouth before calling behind his shoulder. “Reek!” 

Something sick rises in your core. No. You didn’t want to see him like this. This wasn’t him. This cowering, trembling, man that was dragged in front of you. Where was your beautiful brother? 

His shifty, scared, eyes move from you to the ground. Hands covered with dirty bandages are held close to his chest, as if he was scared that Ramsay might grab them and chop off more fingers. Theon’s whole entire disposition was so. . . wrong. . . The arrogance that used to make you laugh was completely gone. Dark hair that you loved to run your fingers through was cut short and now tangled and matted in a mess. 

“There is no ‘Theon’ anymore. He’s Reek now. Do you still want him?” Ramsay’s hand grabs the back of Theon’s neck making him flinch. 

“Of course.” You keep your gaze on this dilapidated man even when it hurt you to do so. “He’s still my brother.” 

“Your sister failed.” The bastard lord muses. “What makes you think that you’ll be any different?” 

“I have no army. So you can rest assured that no more of your men will be spared. It’ll just be you and me.” 

That makes him laugh outright in front of your face. “You’re going to fight me? And what will I get if you lose?” He already sounded like a man who had won. 

“Whatever you want of me. Kill me, torture me, or take me as your own.” Men, you had learned, when overcome by lust whether it be sexual or violent were often clumsier during a fight. And the man in front of you, was one that was insecure as well. He had to kill his own father just to gain notoriety and a title other than bastard. 

Something on Theon’s face twitched, coming to life. A spark igniting in his dark eyes as you were so willing to give yourself over to Ramsay. It told you that there were bits of your brother still there, still clinging on. 

Ramsay motioned for someone to bring him his sword. “You have a deal then, little Kraken. Just don’t go back on your word.” 

“I never do.”   
  
*   
  


No one could believe it. 

All they could do was stare at the bleeding mess that had once been their master. Dead at your feet. Specks of his blood drying on your cheek as you gaze down at the monster that had mutilated your brother. If only Asha hadn’t tried to use brute force to rescue Theon, this would’ve been done sooner. One on one had always been your aim. 

Putting your sword away you walk over to Theon. “Lets go Theon.” 

He shies when you hold out your hand to him. Patient and gentle, eventually he puts his mutilated hand in your’s. Before you could leave with your brother, several Bolton soldiers block your path. Theon freezes, refusing to move. You speak softly to him, telling him everything will be okay as you draw your sword once more. You’d fight everyone if you had to. 

“Let them pass!” 

“B-But Lady Bolton! She just killed the Lord of Winterfell!” 

A fair skinned young lady with bright auburn hair is standing on top of a balcony. Her giant black furs nearly enveloping her as she leans over the ledge to yell. “It was a trial by combat. Lord Bolton failed and thus paid with his life. Let her pass.” 

They were hesitant but dispersed and watch you and your brother leave with grudging eyes.   
  
  
  
  


Later that night you and your brother were stationed at an inn so that you could wash and feed him. Theon was utterly fragile both physically and mentally, often flinching under your featherlight touch. He didn’t protest as you undressed him but you could tell that he was incredibly uncomfortable. 

“(y/n). . .” 

“It’s okay Theon. Turn around so I can wash your front.” 

He furiously shakes his head. “(y/n), I can’t.” 

Frowning you put down the washcloth and stare at his abused back. “What do you mean?” 

Shivering not from the cold but from his own insecurities, Theon continues to shake his head. 

“Please Theon.” You put all of your love into your voice. 

It reaches to him as he hesitantly turns around. 

You stare and your throat clenches up. 

You should’ve tortured that bastard Bolton. 

His arms are crossed in front of his chest, not hiding something important that is missing from his lower regions. 

“That. . . That son of a bitch.” You growl, fury warming your cheeks and making your hands tremble with rage. You wanted to kill Ramsay all over again. 

“I’m sorry. . . Even. . . Even if you wanted to- well- be together like we once were. . . I can’t. You should’ve just left me there. I’m useless now.” 

“Don’t you dare say that.” Gingerly you run your hand up his arm and to his cheek. “Don’t you ever say that again. I don’t care what that monster did to you. You’re still you. And I still love you.” 

Theon melts under your touch, probably the first gentle one he’s felt for quite a while. Tears run down his face, releasing all the anguish and pain he had went through. 

You kiss the crease between his brows. “I love you Theon. It’ll be okay. We have each other now. We’re together again.”


End file.
